9. "Counting Votes"
"Tim! Tim!"
Andie McPhee awoke with a sudden fierceness. She had had another one of those gut-wrenching dreams. The kind that made her think, half-alert yet part of her still recoiling from the nightmare, that a terrible mistake had been made. Brown wasn't dead; he couldn't be.
But he was.
She was more awake now, reality having settled on her. She was in her new bedroom in the family's Capeside summer home—not the year-round Rhode Island one, not the one with all of the provenance antiques. She refused to let her eyes fill with even a smidgeon of a tear; she must be the strong one.
At least until her dad returned.
She heard the front door close downstairs. Jack was home from his date with Joey…and from the way he bounded up the stairs, it sounded like it must have gone well. Good for him! Her baby brother deserved a little happiness.
Her mind was racing full speed now. Must focus. School. Andie had overheard some students talking about Abby Morgan and Chris Wolfe running for the class presidency. She didn't think they could possibly be serious, but they were. That seemed so wrong. It shouldn't matter how rich or attractive or popular her—dare she call them?— peers were. What could they possibly contribute to better a student's life at Capeside High? More delinquency, no doubt.
Someone had to stop them. In fact, she had half a mind to do it herself!
Well…
Why not?
Andie had plenty of ideas about the way things could be run on campus, how to improve study aids and perhaps provide a little inspiration along the way. Like music seminars at lunch, applied math for sports freaks and Shakespeare on Film afterschool detention (that one was based on a conversation with her boyfriend). And, if she could be allowed to toot her own horn for a moment, a successful bid for student office certainly would look impressive on the academic resume. Must appease those collegiate decision-makers in charge of early admissions!
The only problem was, whom could she possibly ask to be her running mate? Pacey? No, Pacey would probably think it was a joke. She didn't need that if she wanted other students to take her seriously. But if she could challenge him to help out—maybe be her campaign manager or something—his enthusiasm and networking skills could be a tremendous asset.
Then there was Dawson. No. He'd told her just yesterday that he was making another film and could be tied up for weeks, months.
There was a girl in her French class who…
Wait a minute. What about Joey Potter? Mid-term class standings had shown her to be in the über-stellar top ten of their class, above Kenny Reiling and just a notch below Andie. Andie had known she was smart—she had proven that at their failed study-thon a couple of weeks before—but not that smart. In fact, with her near fulltime work at The Ice House, Joey never seemed to have much time to do anything more than perfunctory lessons.
Yet she managed to excel, almost as if she thrived on adversity. That was a plus. Andie had seen plenty of evidence in class that Joey's teachers considered her a standout; even her monied peers gave her begrudging respect. They certainly stayed out of her way! That could be another plus.
Jack had told Andie admiringly about how well organized Joey always seemed to be, how varied her interests, how talented she was in art as well as academics—and, most importantly, how this 15 year-old from the fabled wrong side of the tracks actually ran the family business when her sister was occupied with her baby. No matter what challenges she seemed to face, she really took charge of the situation—yet another plus; she didn't let life's circumstances defeat her.
In that respect, Joey Potter was decidedly ambitious. She was driven to use her intelligence to negotiate an exit from the lowlands of the Cape. Could Andie help her turn that into a determination to make a difference? In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she realized it would be a good idea to get Joey on her side—cut her off at the proverbial pass before she decided to run for class president herself.
Heroes are made not born, Andie had told Pacey a few days earlier. Perhaps a Girl Power Duo was exactly what Capeside High needed: New leaders for the new millennium. Time for Team Andie to rise up and wave the pink banner!
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Joey pulled her hair back into a half-knot, not caring if all the pieces were in place. Smudged, day-old mascara completed the picture. She had overslept and she was late, again. Though business was slow this time of year (yet another worry), the combination of working more evenings at the Ice House while Bessie tended to Alexander, then trying to study during the breaks between customers was playing real havoc with her ability to get a decent night's sleep.
Not to mention getting to school on time. The vice principal had called her into the office the previous week and she was sure she was going to be lectured about the times she had been caught dozing during study hall—but it was only to ask if she would be interested in making some extra money as a tutor. The money would be great…the extra hours, not so much.
She trotted the final stretch to Capeside High wondering why she'd never invested in a pair of sunglasses to hide sleepy, still-struggling-to-focus eyes. Who really cared if people thought she was trying to be cool? Except that she did care. She cared too much sometimes, and that really bothered her.
"Hey Joey!" a shrill voice blared. "I was hoping I'd see you today. I mean, I see you everyday but this is different." It was rambling Andie McPhee.
"It's 7am," Joey responded reasonably. "Cheer down."
Andie smiled with determined good nature. Despite Joey's predisposition toward making snarky comments, she resisted the urge to come down too hard on her. Andie was an easy target, but she was sincere, genuine and, Joey suspected, more than a little bit vulnerable; she liked her.
But she was seriously deluded if she thought her latest epiphany—joining forces to preside over their sophomore class—had any chance of becoming a reality.
"Maybe you haven't heard, Andie, but I'm not exactly Miss Congeniality of Capeside, okay? Adding my name to your ticket would only assure you a loss," Joey informed her, regretting that she had to state the obvious. It was too early in the morning for this. "Everybody knows my sordid family history," she added.
The Capeside newbie disagreed, claiming that such history was long ago forgotten by their attention-deficit peers. "You've got a clean slate," she insisted.
Joey Potter knew better. Perhaps her fellow students had moved on, but their parents hadn't. They remembered. It had been two long years and Joey was still trying to figure out how to handle their wary condescension and the guilty way these "concerned citizens" made her feel. The beauty pageant had been a vivid reminder that her family story was still very much alive—and the best way to deal with that was not to put herself out there for public scrutiny.
So she thanked Andie for thinking of her and said no, scurrying down the hall only to bump into Jack.
"Hey," she said.
"Hey," he replied, grinning as he recalled their most recent tryst. "I missed you last night."
Joey smiled. Sometimes things were just easy like this, and that was nice. She brushed her hand against his. He moved his other hand to her unkempt hair, tenderly moving a stray tendril back into place and readjusting the loose knot.
"You're hopeless," he chuckled.
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"What sane person would want to waste their time on school politics when they could be spending oodles of quality time with me?" Pacey asked his girlfriend.
This latest idea of Andie's seemed to come out of left field. Studying together at the family domicile, where innocent intimacies were easily exchanged, was one thing. But Pacey hadn't expected that the concept of spending "quality time together" would include a student council campaign. He was talking about nuzzling, making out; she was talking about writing speeches, painting signs.
Pacey grabbed a bowl of square-cut red Jello and put it on his cafeteria tray. Red was good, he thought as he sat down next to Andie. Red was his heart, passion…and that was decidedly not square-cut.
He looked up and saw Joey and Jack coming their way. But Joey made a last-minute detour and sat at a table on the other side of the aisle. What was that about?
Pacey wasn't sure what he thought about the Potter-McPhee co-mingling. Did he like them as a couple? Hell, he wasn't even sure what he thought about seeing them hold hands. One thing he did like? That Joey seemed more confident and less tense these days—just a little, but still it was a positive sign.
Everyone seemed to be going their own way now. Dawson was back in fantasyland, mapping out his latest cinematic masterpiece with his new co-producer, Jen Lindley. Joey was into art and Jack. And Pacey had Andie. They were all moving on.
That was a good thing, right?
"She's got my little brother wrapped. around. her. finger," Andie observed, watching her boyfriend watching the couple across the way.
Pacey turned his attention back to his girl. "She doesn't even know."
"Doesn't know?"
"No. She has no idea of the power she holds. Look at the way she averts her eyes. She's totally oblivious to it."
Andie raised a discerning eyebrow as she gave Joey a quick once-over. "Huh," she said, almost disbelieving. On her better days, Joey Potter looked like something straight off a runway. She was the girl next door with a brooding, sarcastic twist. How could she not know what an impact that made on others?
Yet Andie didn't think twice about it, her mood turning to playful as she leaned in to brush her lips lightly across Pacey's earlobe. "Perhaps she's afraid of testing her own sexuality," she said invitingly. "Her definition of love seems pretty much rooted in Jane Austen."
"Yes. The forbidden, though honorable, spending years in denial kind of love. And what about you, Miss McPhee?" Pacey growled in response to Andie's teasing.
"What about me?" Andie retorted in faux innocence.
"Are you ready to test your power?" Andie looked at him blankly. "Over the 10th grade vassals at Capeside High?"
"Absolutment!"
Pacey stood up with his tray in hand. "Then I think we have some information to reconnoiter," he said, offering his arm.
Andie put her arm in his, making a mental note to have a talk with Jack about Joey. Someone needed to convince her that 1998 was the right time for McPhee & Potter.
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Jack's jaw dropped in stunned bemusement.
"Tell Andie I'm in," Joey announced after making a Medusa-like wetsuit out of a snarling Abby Morgan. She put down the empty water pitcher and went into the kitchen to begin closing out.
Jack ceremoniously locked the Ice House door with great relish as Abby and Chris Wolfe slithered out of the restaurant. Wow, he thought, Ms. Potter really had that anger thing working for her!
Joey's change of course inspired him to consider a rush home to announce the good news. But the bus was late and Jack was immediately sidetracked upon walking into the house. His mother had torn apart the kitchen trying to put together some goodies for the anticipated arrival of Tim and his college buddies. When Andie told her they weren't coming, Mrs. McPhee had barricaded herself in her bedroom, refusing to coming out.
Things were getting worse—too much for two teens to deal with on their own. Yet, like Joey, they soldiered on, having no choice but to rise to the occasion and deal with the situation as best they could.
Jack calmed his mother down and put her to bed while Pacey spoke with Andie. Student Council could wait until morning.
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POTTER CONVICTED ON
DRUG-DEALING CHARGES
Next Stop, Capeside High?
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As she predicted, Joey Potter was the early target of an "anonymous" smear campaign, though it wasn't hard to figure out where the money and materials came from. No sooner had Joey said yes than the flyers featuring newspaper stories about her dad's sensational trial were distributed all over campus. In bathrooms, on bulletin boards, stuffed in books—even the Minuteman statue on the commons was seen defiantly holding one. Joey was steamed, and immediately defensive. Yet another humiliation, she brooded. She hated the idea that her cynicism was proven right once again. It was almost more than she could tolerate.
This time, however, she was determined to fight back. She reconsidered her early reticence and determined that she and Andie had a decent shot at the student council top spots—good enough to be taken seriously, and serious enough to get people to listen. Winning wasn't even the point; trying was. At the very least, her peers would have to pay attention to the girl their parents had written off as little more than white trash three years back.
She tugged another yellow flyer loose from the staples that bound it to a post, crumpling the paper with defiance as she continued walking. And brooding. What was that ad line from Jaws: The Revenge? "This time, it's personal." How could she let such malicious character attacks go unchallenged? Looking up, she spotted Andie and Pacey at their pre-designated meeting place off campus and headed straight towards them. Just in time, from what she could see—unless one considered canoodling part of the campaign strategy. She was going to have to talk to Pacey about that!
Joey cleared her throat as she sat down at the picnic table, allowing a respectable distance between herself and the cooing couple. "Did you get a glimpse of Chris and Abby's smear campaign?" she charged. "This is exactly what I was worried about."
"Why?" Pacey queried back. "We'll just hit them back harder. There's a whole chapter in my book on mudslinging."
Pacey Witter was reading a book? Joey smirked in silence. Would wonders never cease.
"No, we are not stooping to their lows," said Andie. "Government is about balance and order. We cannot let their petty ways usurp us."
"That's another good one! I should be writing this stuff down," Pacey replied, grinning with almost dopey admiration.
Joey eyed her friend curiously. "Don't you think we should at least fight back?" she said, hoping that his delirium wasn't contagious.
"And let Chris and Abby and the whole school know that we respond in an emotional, knee-jerk fashion? It's not a good signal to be sending out to our voting constituents." Andie was nothing if not logical.
"Okay. Forget fighting. But I think we should stand up for ourselves. I mean…"
"Look, Joey, I know they got you, but let's not let them get the best of us," Andie reasoned. "Those were just words. They carry no weight whatsoever. Let's just look at our debate issues and figure out our game plan. Winning will be our best revenge."
Joey thought her running mate resorted too easily to clichés, but Pacey's smile got even brighter. "She won my vote a few bumper stickers ago," he announced in support, not noticing as Joey crossed her arms and slumped down, separating herself from the scene.
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The speeches had gone brilliantly. Both Andie and Joey stayed on point in the school assembly, refusing to respond in kind to backhanded snipes. Pacey sat in the audience, proud to be associated with both girls…no, women. He was going to have to remember that. They were becoming women right before his very eyes. Tall, sleek, commanding…women. His heart was filled with pride in both.
When Abby Morgan got more direct with her accusations about closet skeletons, Joey not only stood her ground but also deflected the zinger thrown in Andie's direction. Pacey sat up straight, motioning to Andie to let the heartless rapport slide…but Andie suddenly lost her nerve and crumbled. Unable to voice a response, she ran out of the assembly in distress. Joey looked to Pacey, concerned for both friends. Pacey rose quickly, his heart breaking just a little bit; without hesitation, he walked out of the gym, hoping he could find Andie before she disappeared entirely.
Joey went off point. "Tit for tat, Abby. What exactly bothers you most about Andie and I running for council president? Why make it so personal?"
"Because it is."
"Why?" Joey persisted.
"Why let the bums rule?" her nemesis snapped back. There was a murmur in the student audience and Abby was momentarily thrown off. "I mean, you don't…"
"Belong. You see, that's exactly what Andie and I are standing up for: the students who feel they don't belong. The quiet ones, the forgotten ones…the students you think don't matter. But they do. It's about inclusion, Abby, about making everyone count. Or did you skip that page in your Miss Popularity primer?"
The applause started meekly in the back of the stands, then rumbled in waves through the rows of vaguely engaged participants, growing to its loudest as the guidance counselor, Mr. Rukavina, dismissed the assembly. The students scattered quickly and Joey rushed off to find Jack.
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Finding Jack. Apparently, finding Jack wasn't the problem—talking to Jack was. For the first time since Joey had known him, Jack showed true anger and confusion, effectively put a wall between them and obliterating any offers of help. Joey walked away in defeat, wondering why everything she seemed to touch lately turned to crap.
She turned to walk along the waterfront, as she often did when she felt restless. What just happened anyway? She was starting to think that she had been wrong at the beginning of the school year. She should have gone to Paris.
"Hey, Potter."
Joey looked up quickly to see Pacey pulling over to the other side of the road in his father's Wagoneer. "Oh. Hi, Pace."
"Welcome to the wonderful world of gray, eh?"
Joey crossed the street. "Is she going to be okay?"
"Yeah, I think so. She scared me for a moment there, but she bounced back later. Yeah. I think she's going to be…fine."
Pacey sounded less than convincing, but Joey didn't question it, knowing somehow that he needed to believe it.
"It was a low blow, even for Abby Morgan," she commiserated. "I had a few choice words for her later."
"You did?" Pacey queried, his expression lightening with the thought of Joey Potter giving Abby—or anyone, for that matter—a piece of her mind. "Damn! And I missed the lauded comeback of the Potter wrath!"
"It was not a pretty sight," Joey laughed. "Mr. Rukavina almost had to pull the pint-sized Vampira-wannabe off me in the hallway! The witch couldn't resist going for a very literal, jugular vein." She leaned against the side mirror and paused, adding softly. "Of course, we both had to back off when a certain 'D' word was mentioned."
"Domino's?"
"No, detention, doofus!"
"Hey, that's two 'D' words…" Pacey quipped.
"Whatever. Either way, it spelled a world of trouble for Ms. Morgan."
"I'm proud of ya, Potter. You have certainly won my vote." And admiration, he thought. "Hey, wanna ride home?"
"Pacey, I live two blocks from here."
"I know, but it's still light out and I thought I'd take a drive and enjoy this weird, very late Indian summer. You know, luxuriate in it while we still can have the windows rolled down."
"There's a ten dollar word for you."
"Come on, Potter!"
Joey mulled it over for a moment. "Wouldn't this be a more appropriate activity to do with your girlfriend?" she asked.
"I wanted her to," Pacey admitted, "but she begged off. She was exhausted."
Joey instantly felt bad for reminding him of the day's sordid events. "Maybe she wanted to prepare for tomorrow's presentation," she added on a positive note.
"Probably."
"Okay," she acquiesced. "But I have to be home by 9 o'clock."
"Done!"
Pacey looked in the rear-view mirror as Joey went around to the passenger side of the Wagoneer, smiling to himself as he remembered his previous view of Joey in a similar mirror. He couldn't help but think how alike Joey and Andie were—and yet how different, especially in their contrasting temperament in tackling adversity. Joey faced life straight on, even if it hurt, finding challenge in the conflict and strength somehow (he guessed it must be the peculiar Potter gene pool) to continue forward. He imagined what a tremendous asset that would be for Dawson when, inevitably, the couple got back together and set about their lives and careers. Would Dawson appreciate the woman, the person she had become? If current history was taken into account, it appeared his clueless friend was as big a question mark as ever.
As for Joey's feelings about Dawson, well…he really couldn't read her on that one. But she did seem more excited by the opportunities presented to her these Dawson-free days.
Joey waved her hand in front of Pacey's face. "Earth to Pacey. Hello?"
"Huh?"
"Where did you go just now?"
"Nowhere," Pacey said, shifting the Wagoneer into gear and peeling the new all-weather tires across the asphalt road. "Yowsa!" he whooped. "This is it, sports fans. We are revved up, warmed up and we're outta here!"
Joey rolled her eyes. "Just keep the car on the road, Pace."
zzzzzzzzzz
Pacey switched the engine off and steered the Wagoneer quietly into the elongated driveway outside the McPhee family home. The lights downstairs were out, but he could see a dim reading light illuminating Andie's room. Perhaps she was still up.
He climbed up the trellis, grateful that the roses had been cut back for the winter. Looking in the window, however, he could see Andie asleep with her textbooks and papers spread out at the end of bed. He tapped on the window, wincing a bit when he saw her fidget in her sleep. Without another moment's thought, he pushed the window open and climbed in, carefully moving the books aside to snuggle next to his girlfriend.
"Pacey?" Andie mumbled as he wrapped his arms around her.
"Shhh…shhhh," he comforted her.
"Did you know that it's exactly 60 feet 6 inches from the pitching mound to home plate?" she said groggily.
"Yeah, McPhee. You told me that."
"Tim…"
"Shhh," he whispered, running the fingers of his right hand gently through her hair. "Go back to sleep."
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"I used to really hate you, you know."
"Used to?" he smirked.
"I mean really hate you," she said. Clearly, a world of difference was contained in that distinction. She paused, looking at him from the passenger's seat with the slightest beginnings of smile informing the corners of her mouth. "As opposed to the mild contempt I currently feel," she clarified.
Pacey laughed, but Joey remained in her more serious mode.
"When your dad busted mine for drugs I thought he was wrong and on some weird kind of vendetta to get back at Dad for getting involved with the town floozy. I didn't know she was the one who set him up with those scumbags in the first place."
Pacey just nodded, knowing his commentary at this point was irrelevant—especially if Joey was in a confiding mood.
"It was that woman pressuring him about money that led to his arrest. She wanted him to support her, didn't care at all that he had a sick wife and kids to worry about. Sometimes I get worried that I'm too much like my dad."
"Why would you ever think that?" Pacey asked, not hiding his incredulity.
"I look at my relationship with Dawson and I see myself seeking the same kind of easy comfort…"
"Easy?"
"…and I don't ever want it to be about that. You know, just some physical thing. I think that's what I like about Jack. He doesn't know my trashy history, but he seems to, I don't know, intuit things…feel them before I even have to say anything. And what he's going through right now? I can't even imagine…"
"Yes you can."
Joey took a deep breath. "Yes, I guess I can. That's what makes it so scary."
Pacey didn't have to look at her to know that her eyes were darting back and forth as she thought through the day's events. "You really like this guy."
"Yeah. I think I do, and I don't know what to do about it. I always screw things up," she said, looking out the passenger window at nothing in particular.
"Just be there for him. You know guys. We don't have that same compulsion to share everything, but if Jack wants to talk I'm sure he'll let you know. Whoa!"
Joey looked up suddenly to see a mama raccoon scampering across the road in pursuit of her little ones.
"Don't swerve," she exclaimed.
"Potter, I've got it under control," he assured her, calmly steering straight on as if there were never any doubt the raccoons would make it across.
Joey smiled.
"Told ya," Pacey said matter-of-factly. He couldn't help but notice that his friend's smile had broadened, seeming as luminescent as the stars in the sky overhead. He liked it when his dark and serious childhood pal showed that she had a lighter, brighter side.
"Pacey, you're zoning out again."
"No, I'm not," he insisted. "You were talking about the North Star."
"Actually, I was talking about that light on the horizon. I think it's Jupiter. Jack told me it would be especially bright tonight."
"Andie said the same thing before I left," Pacey added in bemusement.
"The Weather Channel," Joey noted.
"Ding ding ding! Ms. Potter," Pacey laughed. "Another quirky pastime at the McPhee household."
"Ah—but those quirks are what makes Andie & Jack so compelling," Joey added.
"That it does, Jo. That it certainly does."
They rode the rest of the way home in silence, just admiring the night sky…and the quiet. Joey had never thought about Pacey being the kind of guy who could appreciate these leisurely moments, but the more she saw him since he had become involved with Andie McPhee, the more she was surprised—and rather pleasantly, if she dared to say so—by the man he was becoming. It bespoke of a maturity and depth she had rarely given him credit for. She would deny it to her dying breath, but she liked it.
Joey turned back to look straight ahead as the Wagoneer pulled down the dirt and gravel road leading to her house.
"Thanks for the ride, Pace," she said, putting her hand reassuringly on his arm. "And the encouragement. You take your own advice as well, eh? Go on—go take care of your girl. You know you want to."
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Pacey snuggled closer, lightly kissing Andie's exposed neck and shoulder. His fingers skated along Andie's arm, delicately tracing a very private declaration of his support for his beleaguered girlfriend. Three simple symbols: I * Heart * U
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Joey hurried her pace as she saw the front doors of the high school closing. She didn't want to be late for first bell. This morning was the all-important candidate statements over the school's intercom system. She jogged around the corner, turning down the corridor where the sophomore lockers were. She almost ran into Dawson.
"Oh, Dawson!" she said, startled. "Sorry. I um…"
"Guess neither one of us was looking where we were going, Joey," Dawson said in a noncommittal tone. "I'm on my way to set up for auditions and I uh…I…"
Joey looked at him hopefully.
"I just wanted to wish you luck this morning—and tomorrow—on the elections and everything."
"Thanks, Dawson."
"Yeah. Well…See ya later, Jo."
Joey put on her best 'we'll always be friends' smile and continued walking to her locker. She grabbed her bullet points along with the books for her first two classes, dutifully hanging her backpack inside the locker and closing the door with determination. The first bell rang and Joey took a deep breath to gather courage. Across the way, she observed Pacey with his hands on Andie's shoulders, positioning himself so he could look straight into her eyes. Joey couldn't hear his exact words of encouragement, but whatever he said had Andie nodding and smiling and that seemed to be a good sign. Apparently, a few words and a reassuring touch were all that was required to nullify Andie McPhee's jitters.
Was it possible for things to be that simple? Because, in Joey's experience, the nerves intensified over time—and with the knowledge that in the past she had increasingly come to rely on one person to fix things for her. But that person was just as confused as she was and, unfortunately, no longer able to offer support without conditions. Now she realized the fix was an inside job. Nothing else made sense without her fixing herself first. Right now, she was a work in progress…not such a bad thing, but definitely (and infinitely) complicated.
"Oh, Joey! Do you have your notes for the speech? Good. I heard what you did yesterday after my rather dramatic departure, and I appreciate it. Really. Today is going to be our time to shine," Andie enthused. "I absolutely feel it."
"That's great, McPhee," Pacey jumped in, crooking his arms so both women could entwine their arms with his. "Shall we?"
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Pacey had hoped Andie would sweep the alleged "McPhee family scandal" under the proverbial carpet by confronting Abby Morgan and Chris Wolfe with their own, very severe misfailings. But, once again, Andie faltered. This time, her campaign manager-slash-party of one support staff stepped up to the mic to challenge her would-be annihilator.
"So what's the deal here?" he asked Abby. "Why are you slumming as vice-president for that guy when you are so obviously the brains behind this campaign?"
Abby sat back down at the table with Pacey, basking in a triumphant moment of ego gratification. "I'll let you in on a little secret there, sport. I'm just using that walking penis for his popularity. Ultimately, I will destroy him," she snickered. "Just like I destroyed your little girlfriend. It's just so easy! And victory's so much sweeter when you have to walk on other people to get it."
Abby's evil laugh reverberated throughout the school hallways.
"I'm going to rule this school," she declared, "and you and all those other halfwits are too stupid to stop me."
Pacey let her words sink in for a moment. "Yeah, you're probably right," he said. "I mean, I'm so stupid that I didn't know that when I pressed this button on this little thing that your annoying nasal whine was broadcast over this entire school." He paused dramatically. "Oh, no, wait a minute. That's exactly what I meant to do. Sorry, my bad!" He stood up and gave a victorious high-five to Kenny Reiling. "School's yours, pal."
Teachers struggled to gain control of their classes, but conceded the moment of celebration to the no longer silent majority.
"Remind me not to get on your bad side. Ever," Dawson said as Pacey exited the principal's office. The pair walked down the hallway, standing tall among their fellow sophomores. A few junior and senior pals also expressed their admiration, giving curious coded handshakes to Pacey as Dawson stood proudly by. "What you did? Dude, that was a singular moment of awesome!"
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"Tim! Tim!"
Andie cried uncontrollably. Feelings of being overwhelmed came on in dark waves, and she just couldn't seem to shake that dream. It had become that familiar to her: that dream. Her older brother was dead, her father was gone and her mother was absent in mind as well as spirit. Things were spiraling faster and faster downward.
The past two months she had felt the happiest that she had been in ages, and it was Pacey Witter who made her happy. His faith had banished the demons, temporarily. But it wasn't within his power to keep her happy. It wasn't his fault. She was starting to crash and she knew what the next step was.
"I really think you need to go back to Dr. Clancy," Jack said, handing his sister a glass of water along with the medication he knew was in her bathroom cabinet.
Andie grimaced. "No, I already took sleep medication, Jack."
"This is for anxiety."
"Tomorrow," she promised. "I'll call in the morning." Jack looked at his sister with concern. Andie forced herself to offer the hint of a smile. "Cross my heart. I will be right back on track tomorrow." She took the glass of water and sipped from it. "I'm sorry I woke you up, little brother. Why don't you go back to bed and dream about how you can make it up to your girl."
"I already did."
"You did?"
"Yeah. I walked her home and we talked about it—or rather didn't talk, but it was strangely comforting. Joey's one of those people who can say a lot without saying very much at all."
"I kinda noticed that," Andie chuckled lightly. Jack was reassured to see his sister slip into girly mode. "I'm going to have to ask her to share some secrets with me."
"I don't think she knows herself," Jack admitted. "But if you get her to share, please let me know."
"What? And ruin the illusion of mysteries and mirrors? No way!"
Jack smiled and turned back toward his bedroom. "Nite, Andie."
"Good night, sleep tight," Andie said automatically, echoing the words her mother had put her to bed with as a child. Though once comforting, those words felt hollow now.
Her hand drifted across the quilted duvet cover as she vaguely recalled the impression of Pacey lying near her…warming her, sheltering her. As long as she was within his physical presence, she felt safe with him.
Why couldn't she feel that way all the time?
